


They Sang

by Taiveri



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Grey Wardens, The Taint (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 07:55:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20991464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taiveri/pseuds/Taiveri
Summary: The old songs of ancient gods are difficult to silence.





	They Sang

The path was a narrow trail, almost covered by grass. The leaves of the trees were agitated by the cold night wind, producing a sweet sound that reminded her of the da’len rattles back in the aravels of her clan. She had scarcely a bearskin worn over her shoulders, and her bare feet sank into the icy mud at every step, but she preferred it that way.

  
A few meters from her, the huge silhouette of a wolf was concealed among the trees, letting glimpse only the flash of intense green eyes, just as the veilfire that Hahren Paivel had once spoken about while hours flew and their songs flowed.

  
The night was not silent. In the distance, she could hear the movements of her companions in the camp. The singing laughter of Zevran, the barking of Isenam, the metallic screech of Alistair’s armor moving from side to side while on watch. No one had noticed she had slipped away like a snake, only followed by Morrigan, who was gliding through the air making her black feathers glow every time she flapped her wings.

  
She started to run, leaving a spray of dew behind her. The wolf cracked the fallen branches as soon as it hurried to keep up with its elven companion. A single moon was visible in the sky, huge and majestic, illuminating their wild race. She laughed with joy, jumping rocks and holes with the grace and arrogance of a cat. The raven at her side gave a squeal of retaliation, and its form dissolved and exploded in a cloud of shadows from which emerged a second wolf, who threw itself towards the elf and galloped alongside her until the three of them reached the shore of a small lagoon.

  
The wolf finally emerged from its hiding place and approached them, testing the air with its tongue while its companion gathered water in her hands and quenched her thirst. The witch sat on her four legs and stared at the moon through her lupine eyes without saying a word, only inhaling the pure air and ignoring the vague wandering of the fireflies. Mahariel plunged one of her dar'misu into the ground and advanced into the water until it covered her knees.

  
“We used to sing, the Hahren and I. We sang our prayers, our desires, our fervor and our pain ... We sang with the hope that our voices would go through the Veil and brighten Falon'Din’s spirit," she said, with a weak voice almost improper from her, unconsciously tracing the pattern of her vallaslin with her fingers.

  
Morrigan raised her ears when the sound began to flow from her companion’s lips, soft but dense, familiar and unknown at the same time.

  
_“Heruamin lotirien_  
_ Alai uethri maeria”._

  
Turning her head, she saw Mahariel with her eyes lost in the horizon, moving her lips to the sound of a voice that seemed to come from millennia ago.

  
_“Halurocon yalei nam bahna_  
_ Dolin nereba maome”._

  
The wolf let out a high-pitched howl, harmonizing the elf's sad song in a way a human could never achieve. Mahariel raised her huge gray eyes and fixed them mercilessly on the moon with an intensity bordering on the wild.

  
_“Ame amin_  
_ Halai lothi amin_  
_ Noamin Heruamin”._

  
The melody began to change. The sweetness and melancholy gave way to a thicker, darker tone. The purity of the Elvhen song was slowly transformed into an invitation, a relentless and seductive call that filled the atmosphere with grief and despair. Thin black veins slowly invaded the pale skin of the elf, mingling with the intricate silver tattoos on her face. Her bright gray eyes filled with a poisonous red, giving them the appearance of a clotted wound. Morrigan returned to her original form, observing her cautiously while standing up.

  
“It has been happening since I unleashed the power of my blood in Soldier’s Peak. I can hear it in my mind, beautiful, constant ... And his song tinges mine. But I dreamed of its name…

  
"Urthemiel," she released with a sigh, as her wolf shook his head and stretched, folding all the spines on his back.

  
"’Tis time to go back, my friend," the witch announced with perfectly hidden concern, her expression immutable as the forest itself.


End file.
